


Pulling On Pigtails

by utsushiame



Category: NG (Visual Novel)
Genre: Akira doesn't get Seiji. Seiji also doesn't get Seiji, Character Study, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rosé does and plays wingwoman, Swearing, also some Seiji/Rosé teasing, what's up i'm jared i'm 19 and i never learned how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21540493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/utsushiame/pseuds/utsushiame
Summary: Seiji starts to get a kick out of annoying Akira. Neither of them really understand why until it's all but spelled out for them.Contains mild spoilers up to and including the end of the game.
Relationships: Amanome Seiji/Kijima Akira
Comments: 20
Kudos: 136





	Pulling On Pigtails

"Sweet corn soda?"

A tear of condensation slipped down the bottle, matching the downward pull of Akira's brow as he scowled and slid the drink onto the bar top. "Pass."

The lacquered wood reflected a row of delicate fingers as they crept over to the glass, Seiji's smile teasing as he tapped the bottle back towards his friend. "I know you're not one for sweet things, but you'll never know unless you try."

"You know that's not my problem with it."

"Then what is? Your lack of an open mind?"

A lesser being would've withered under Akira's glare. To Seiji, it was no less commonplace than the raven hair atop his head. "Then you drink it, if you're so 'open'."

"God no, it probably tastes awful."

Akira did pick up the bottle then- holding it by the neck so he could swing its base like a pendulum against Seiji's forearm. It barely stung, and Seiji's features lost none of their mirth as he was punished for his hypocrisy.

"You're such a philistine."

"And you're a prick."

So the afternoon passed, the two boys snipping back and forth while the cool interior of the Black Rabbit protected them from the sun. Akira didn't have much in the way of a social life, and none of Seiji's acquaintances managed to entertain him quite so much as his best friend, so the two had often found themselves together through the summer break. Never up to anything exciting- barring the UG matches and occasional run-ins with gangs from opposing territories- but for years their simple companionship had been enough to keep them satiated through the long afternoons.

So why, then, did Seiji feel the encroaching tendrils of boredom in his mind?

Perhaps it was the stiflingly warm air that was tiring him out. Maybe he was just at the age where he needed something more exciting to keep his attention. The company wasn't to blame, Seiji knew that. Akira was a fascinating character- anti-social and as charismatic as a rock, yet fearsome in a way that commanded respect. Few others were so genuinely unshakeable, and every day was a joy as Seiji wormed his way through the cracks to the vulnerability hidden beneath.

He was a hoarder by nature- drinks, secrets, connections, anything that interested him, he would eagerly dig his claws in until he'd scavenged every scrap. The unguarded Akira, the one that would flinch, yell, smile, and laugh... it was a well-guarded treasure, and that made it all the more worthwhile to peel off its armour.

Alas, like any addiction, Seiji would always crave more. Maybe that was why he felt bored. What was once exciting eventually became routine, and then benign. He'd grown to recognise the way that Akira's mouth would furl when a canned drink was lobbed into his hands, the precise tone he took when defending against Seiji's barbed words. He hadn't dug deep enough. He needed to see more.

Seiji was well aware that he was leading himself down a road of bad intentions and worse results. Akira was human, despite all evidence to the contrary, and there was only so far that he could bend before he would snap instead.

But wouldn't that, in itself, be a sight to see?

"Oi, Amanome." Akira's eyes were as steely as ever as he fixed his stare on his absent companion. Seiji blinked, refocused on those two dark pits, and locked his intentions away as he heard Akira's tongue click against the roof of his mouth. "You can go home if you're just gonna space out while I'm talking."

"My, someone's impatient today." Seiji's smirk returned as he propped his arm on the bar and rested his head atop his hand. "What's got you all hot and bothered?"

"This shitty weather, for starters." Even with the bar's cool air, Seiji could see the thin layer of sweat against Akira's skin as he peeled his shirt away from his chest. He was a fitness nut, exercising more in one day than Seiji did in a month, yet his body showed so little sign of it. His skin was smooth and pale, and his collarbones jutted prominently. Seiji followed their sharp lines with his eyes, wondering just where Akira kept all his strength.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of reaching over right then and there and flipping up Akira's shirt for a quick look-see. The phantom pain of the inevitable retaliation kept him at bay. He'd have his fun, but he knew he'd have to work his way up there first. Not that he was a stranger to the process, being a Yakuza child and all.

So, instead of diving right into the deep end, he started with a tread into familiar waters. "Sounds like someone needs a nice cold drink." He replied, his smile taking on its classic bite as he held the soda aloft.

With this, he only had to deal with a slap upside the skull.

* * *

Seiji had been spending more time with Akira lately, and his 'familial' responsibilities had fallen to the wayside. Of course, he couldn't just tell his father that he was helping his friend hunt down and exorcise spirits, and so instead he came up with some drivel about summer homework and 'taking his education seriously'. His father didn't believe him, he could see in the way that his crow's feet crinkled, but he also didn't question his son further. He was too doting to seriously suspect his child of anything, and Seiji had built enough of a reputation that Taizou knew he wouldn't blow off his work unless it was for something important.

Seiji hummed to himself as he arrived at the front door of the Black Rabbit. When had he become so analytical of even his parental bond? He didn't know how to feel about the development.

The cozy lighting and scent of leather and alcohol was a balm upon Seiji's discomfort as he made himself comfortable at the counter. He wasn't even that disappointed when the one to greet him was not the divine Miss Natsumi, but instead her nephew, stony as always.

"How's it going, best friend?" Akira merely nodded at his greeting, then turned to place an arrangement of bottles along the back shelves. "Had any more 'visitors' since last night?"

"Nah. Got a good sleep for once." Akira arched up to the top shelf, his shirt hiking up to reveal a sliver of his lower back. He was the sort to squeeze every use he could out of his clothes, until they were barely more than rags. Seiji couldn't relate.

"That's good. I'd rather not be plagued with any more ghost stories."

"Try being the one who experiences them." Akira continued to stock, missing the shiver that coursed down Seiji's back. "Anyway, my aunt's not here. She's at the station again."

"What makes you think I'm visiting for her?" Akira glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked, and Seiji huffed. "Okay, yes, I was hoping to catch sight of her, but you're not a terrible consolation prize."

"Gee, thanks."

"But poor Miss Natsumi. She must be worried sick..." While of course he wanted nothing more than to comfort her during this trying time, Seiji couldn't say that he empathised with her pain. Everyone in his family could handle themselves, one way or another, and the prospect of one of them getting abducted was an inevitability more than an abstract fear. He wouldn't really be besides himself if either of his parents disappeared, nor any of his coworkers.

And Akira... well, the thought of him being overpowered in any way was laughable. Maybe Natsumi herself, if she were to disappear, would stir the feelings of anxiety that lay dormant in Seiji's heart.

There he went, off in his own thoughts again. At least this time Akira was too busy to get snippy at him about it. Then again, maybe Seiji wanted him to be annoyed... "Hey, you're making sure she's not going overboard, right?"

"Me?" Akira's face furrowed. "I'm not in charge of her."

"Don't give me that. You should be looking out for your aunt."

"I've been a little distracted with all the attempts on my life." His gloved hand rose to rub against his neck- Seiji remembered him saying (rather disturbingly offhand, now that he thought of it) that the Urashima Woman had made him feel like he was drowning. Not for the first time, Seiji counted his prayers that he'd been relegated to lookout for the final night. "You want to make sure she's okay, visit her yourself. You've got more time to waste than me."

Now it was Seiji's turn to raise a brow. "Excuse me? I'll have you know my pops just grilled me about all the time I've been spending with you."

"Really." Akira's ability to _state_ a question, nary a hint of inflection, was a tool that Seiji envied. "What happened to 'work's come up, deal with it.'"

"You're still pissed about that?" Seiji could feel the smirk creeping up his face. It wasn't like Akira to be petty. "It really was unavoidable. Besides, you and Hazuki didn't get much done anyway."

Akira didn't respond for a long moment, enough to make Seiji think he'd conceded the point. "What was it about, anyway? You never told me."

"Well, important things aren't always exciting. The cops got whiff of an insurance scam that we were facilitating. Our associates thought that someone on our side had snitched them out. Things were getting heated, I got called in to smooth things over."

"And _you_ needed to be there because..."

"Ah, right, you don't know." Seiji's smile didn't shift, but a familiar wickedness settled in his eyes. "The guy in charge of the deal, he's the brother of one of our teachers. He got referred to the Amanome branch through me, so he was more likely to listen to me than one of our goons."

"You're kidding." Akira stared, and upon finding no evidence of deceit, rolled his eyes skyward. "This city's full of scum."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it." Seiji turned his back to the bar, elbows reclining to rest against the wood. He took in the wall of the Black Rabbit, sturdy but aged with local history. "The rabbit hole goes down so deep that you could get lost in it."

"Hrm."

"You ever been to a BDSM club?" He could hear Akira grind to a halt at the sudden question. Seiji cocked his head over his shoulder, savouring the rare look of bewilderment across his friend's face. "I have- for business, of course- and let me tell you, the clientele are always the people you'd least suspect."

Romance, and more deviant affairs of the body and soul, never seemed to ping on Akira's radar. Seiji had been actively teasing him about it ever since Hazuki fell in line with them, but he'd never earned more than irritated disinterest each time he'd floated the idea. So it pleased him to see that the sudden swerve into sexuality caused Akira some discomfort, his body fidgeting at the mere mention of lewd behaviours. But it wasn't enough. Seiji wanted more.

"You should come with next time." He half-turned back to the bar, just enough so he could reach a hand over and hook a digit under Akira's choker. His finger was flush against Akira's neck, sweaty from the choker's leather. "Get a chain to fit this collar, you'd fit right in-"

Akira was so quick that it took Seiji a second to process what had even happened. His hand locked around Seiji's wrist, twisted it away from his neck, and then kept twisting until Seiji felt a bolt of pain shoot up his arm. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Careful, pup, people might think that you're rabiddaa _AH- fuck, stop._ " Akira let him writhe for a few seconds more before releasing his grip, a keening sound emitting from Seiji's throat as he nursed his throbbing wrist. "Jeez, you could've broken it!"

"Then you'd have a half-decent excuse to ditch spirit hunting." He swore he saw a smirk on Akira's face- at the very least, a glean in his eye- as the black-clad youth returned to his work. His hand had been boiling against Seiji's fair skin, clad as it was in a leather glove, and Seiji could still feel the heat like an imprint. More than that, his arm tingled with something beyond pain. Excitement. Possibility.

More. He needed to push more.

* * *

If Seiji had thought his vacation was dragging before, then having to waste two weeks of it under house arrest made him feel like one of those damn human face turtles Akira had found at the lake. Thoughts of his friend fighting for his life without Seiji's help (without _needing_ Seiji) were frequent and irksome, to say the least.

The text about Ami had been the tipping point, and one daring window escape later had him back by his friend's side- blackmailing businessmen, fighting spirits, the good old routine, so refreshing that it almost made him forget how fucking terrified he was of the supernatural. By the time they were done with Tsukuyomi, he was struggling to keep his knees from knocking. He didn't like Akira's apartment, but it was closer than anywhere else and he really couldn't handle a long walk right now.

Ignoring the ingrained scent of mold, and the claustrophobic lack of space, and the muggy air, and seriously how did Akira put up with this place?, Seiji sauntered through to the bedroom and wasted no time plopping himself down on the bed.

"Make yourself at home." Akira deadpanned, following him inside.

"Thank you, I will."

Akira muttered something, likely an insult, but he'd ducked down to the fridge so Seiji didn't pick it up. He relaxed against the pokey mattress, following Akira with his ears as the other boy picked out something that rustled, stomped into the bedroom, opened the door next to the bed, and went out onto the apartment's tiny balcony.

Apparently, Kubitarou had shown up there one night and tried to make off with Akira's head. Seiji had known him for what had to be a decade now, but still found himself surprised by the depths of Akira's stubbornness. He had literally every reason, up to and including multiple threats on his life, to get out of this dank hole, yet all he did was dig his feet in further.

And like a moth to flame, Seiji was obsessed with forcing his hand.

Allowing a few more minutes for his legs to recover, Seiji eventually rolled off the mattress and joined Akira outside. With his all-black ensemble and stiff posture, he was camouflaged well against the night, only betrayed by the dip and rise of his pale arm as he brought food to his mouth.

"Yo." Seiji placed one arm against the railing, the other holding itself out to Akira expectantly. "Be courteous and feed your guest."

"Go ahead." An unusually polite answer. Seiji peeked suspiciously into the brown paper bag, eyes narrowing first to better discern its contents, and then in disdain.

"Those aren't from Kintoki, are they?"

"What d'you think?" Akira popped another manju into his mouth, expression empty as he chewed. His words, too, were carefully neutral as he next spoke. "They're the ones Maruhashi got me. Been taking up space in my fridge."

Something ugly curdled in Seiji's stomach. He snorted, quickly turning away from Akira to look out over the neighbourhood. "Should've thrown out that garbage."

"I don't like wasting food."

Of course. Akira wouldn't have held onto them for a pathetic reason like sentimentality. That's not the type of people they were.

So why did Seiji feel so bad?

He hated Maruhashi. He'd been a clumsy, oafish, over-enthusiastic, under-achieving moron. Seiji's life had been clouded by his persistent presence. Every day he'd find some new reason to needle the idiot for some mistake or flaw or inconvenience that he introduced to Seiji's life, the exact things an underling shouldn't be troubling their boss with.

So why did his stomach twist in knots when he remembered Maruhashi swearing to protect him? Prattling on about some idol garbage that made the rest of his lackeys snigger? Idiots like him didn't deserve to be thought of fondly. Seiji shouldn't be tensing up every time he heard the name.

So why-

"Hey." Akira was side-eyeing him, knowing what was on Seiji's mind but likely not comprehending the intricacies of it. Hence why he stopped there- no follow-up, no 'are you okay?', just a reminder to Seiji to not get so wrapped up in his own head.

But what else was he supposed to do with these feelings he didn't understand? Seiji was a cruel person. He didn't reminisce over the dead. The weight in his stomach didn't have any business being there.

Akira turned back to his food, raising one of the squishy little cakes up to his lips. His countenance hadn't changed, and Seiji knew him well enough to tell that he wasn't putting on an act. Akira was calm, and Seiji was not, and that was Akira's fault, and that wasn't fair.

So then, he had to make it even.

He waited until Akira's teeth clamped down on the manju, the doughy sweet still protruding from his mouth. Seiji quickly leant over, palm against Akira's jaw forcing him to turn, Akira's eyes widening in surprise and a faint sound bubbling up his throat and being absorbed by the manju as Seiji bit into it, his lips a hair's breadth away from Akira's own, the heat of their skin mingling together. The chewy, tasteless lump tumbled onto Seiji's tongue, but still he didn't move, his every sense focused on Akira's eyes as a spectrum of emotions fought for dominance. Yes, there it was.

There was _his_ Akira.

A palm pressed against his chest and then bodily pushed him away, the air swooping in to replace Akira's warmth as the teen stared at his friend with bemusement, anger, and... concern, maybe? Perhaps that was too kind of a descriptor for any of Akira's emotions, but, in Seiji's defense, he was almost delirious from the thrill pouring through his own veins and could barely think straight.

"What..." Akira sucked a breath through his nose, his eyes still a mess but his tone making it clear that violence was fast approaching if Seiji didn't damn well explain himself. Always with the violence against anything he couldn't understand. Poor, dumb, sweet Akira.

"It really is shit." Forcing himself to swallow the poor substitute for food, Seiji returned to his original position, arms on the railing and his gaze somewhere else entirely.

He waited for the punch to come. One second, ten seconds, a minute. Instead, he heard the paper bag get scrunched into a ball, and then the balcony door open behind as he was left alone to ponder just what in the world was wrong with him.

The answer, of course, was everything.

* * *

Seiji knew Ban, like a dog knows a flea on its hind. Through circumstances that Seiji wasn't too sure of, and even Akira seemed a little stymied on the finer points, the journalist had become a boon to their investigations more than a hassle. To the point that he could, tentatively, be thought of as an ally.

Rosé Mulan was another story.

Akira had told Seiji of the mysterious woman over the phone, but of course, being Akira, he'd skimmed over some of the important details- namely about her being a gorgeously mature woman who liked her men young. What were the chances that such a perfect match for Seiji would be delivered right to his doorstep? He didn't much believe in fate, but surely this had to be the work of a higher power.

Alas, he'd only been able to catch glimpses of her while Kakuya's Game was ongoing, and after it ended she had no reason to hang around. It was a pleasant surprise, then, to walk into the Black Rabbit one evening to find Rosé deep in conversation with Akira. She'd all but strewn her upper body over the counter, her full lips pulled into a mischievous grin as her fingers wound themselves around a lock of Akira's hair and gave it a tug.

And Akira... Seiji almost couldn't believe it, but he appeared to be tripping over his words. Was Rosé's allure so strong that even Akira and his stone-cold libido was affected by it? She truly was something special.

The entrance bell caught their attention, and quickly Akira pulled himself away from Rosé. His eyes skirted away from Seiji as the other boy fixed him with a knowing smirk- again, very unlike Akira, but Seiji didn't have time to ponder over it as Rosé greeted the new arrival with a half-lidded smile that made the heat rise in his stomach. "You must be Amanome, yes? Akira was just letting me know about you."

Huh. Given their positions when he'd come in, Seiji wouldn't have guessed that he was the topic of conversation. Putting aside his curiosity, he made himself comfortable at the bar, head settling into his hand as he returned Rosé's seductive smirk. "My, nothing too damning I hope. I'd hate to scare off a beautiful woman like yourself before I'd even introduced myself properly."

"Hmhm, seems he was right about you being a charmer. Still, it'd take an awful lot to scare someone like me." Her eyes glittered, and like looking in a mirror Seiji could see the wickedness lurking beneath her glib demeanour. It took a villain to know one, and Seiji could tell instantly that, no matter what else Rosé was, she wasn't innocent.

He might just be in love.

With a playful chuckle, Rosé turned her attention back to Akira. "Do think over what I said. And a little extra advice; people like us don't have normal lives. You may not know what tomorrow brings, so if you have something to act on then I'd suggest you do so ASAP."

Seiji could see Akira swallowing, and his only response was a curt nod. How mysterious. "You wouldn't be so cruel as to keep me out of the loop, would you?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." Rosé straightened up, her back arched and eyes slitted like a cat amusedly watching its prey. And not quite in the way that Seiji was hoping for.

Just what had the two been discussing?

"...Amanome." Akira still didn't make eye contact, his gaze low as he jerked his head towards the door. "We're heading out."

"Ehh? But I just got here. I've barely had introductions with this lovely woman."

"You know who she is. I told you over the phone."

"Jeez, you have no sense of tact."

Rosé tittered, breaking their argument before it could begin. "Rosé Mulan. Magician extraordinaire." She leaned in towards Seiji, her perfume wrapping around him like a snare, and hell if he had any intention of escaping it. "If things don't work out, then perhaps we could get to know each other a little better, hm?"

Seiji had no idea what those 'things' were, but he wouldn't mind at all if they came crashing down around him.

"My aunt will be coming along in a few minutes." Like a rock through a still pond, Akira all but barged between the two, hand clamping down on Seiji's shoulder and yanking him out of his seat. "You don't mind staying here till then?"

"Not at all." The smile never left Rosé's face as the two made their way towards the door, Seiji unwillingly. "Though I wouldn't mind a drink of compensation or two."

"Bring it up with Natsumi."

The muggy night air enveloped the duo as Akira shoved the door open, ignoring Seiji's protests as he hauled him out of the bar. Before they left entirely, Seiji managed one last look back at Rosé, her lips mouthing two words before the door clicked shut.

"Good luck."

* * *

Akira's stubbornness was admirable right up until you were on the wrong side of it. Seiji pestered him the entire way back to his apartment, but he kept tight-lipped about what he'd been talking about with Rosé, why it concerned Seiji, and most importantly, why the _hell_ Akira had made him leave the bar containing two gorgeous older women.

Finally, Seiji let out an irritated sigh. "At least tell me what she was even doing there. I thought she left for greener pastures?"

"She's investigating some spirit. Had a memento of theirs that she wanted me to look into." He raised his Bloodmetry hand, explaining what 'look into' meant- not that Seiji had any delusions that Akira and his barely passable grades had been hunted down to do conventional research.

"That still works, huh?"

"Yup. Seems I'll be stuck with it." For a moment, the air seemed to chill as Akira scowled. "Might need it again if Kakuya escapes."

Ah yes, the crazy bitch that had started everything. Seiji had never actually gotten the chance to see her himself- which is not to say that he'd been hoping for the opportunity. Harmless-looking doll or not, he didn't want to be anywhere near any sort of spirit if he could help it. That said, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened between her and Akira in Kakuriyo; whenever he or Hazuki asked about it, Akira would clam up with a strange expression on his face. Not quite fear- Seiji wasn't sure Akira was even capable of that- but more as if he'd come close to losing something and didn't want to relive it.

Akira was holding a few things back, now that Seiji thought about it, and he wasn't finding it easy to dig them out. It was disconcerting, but also intriguing in a way. He liked that his friend could still take him by surprise sometimes.

Tomorrow, he'd remember that thought and laugh.

They arrived at the apartment without incident, and Akira let them inside. It wasn't any better than the last time Seiji had visited, but this time he was so focused on Akira that he barely noticed the grime. "Alright, we're here. Spill."

Akira flung his keys onto the kitchen counter, turned to Seiji, and... stood there, awkwardly, fists clenching at his sides as Seiji watched the gears spin in his head. Akira didn't always manage to phrase his words in the right way, but it was rare that he outright struggled to get anything out.

Seiji huffed. "You've been acting real weird, man. What's up with you?"

Apparently that was the opening Akira needed. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Hm?"

"Since this whole thing started you've been... off. Saying and doing weird shit."

Seiji felt a twinge in his gut, but he didn't reply yet. Wait and see first if they were on the same page. "You're a wordsmith as always. What's 'weird shit' supposed to be?"

"Don't play dumb." Akira crossed his arms, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "The thing with the manju, remember? And even before that, there was other stuff..."

Credit to Akira, he wasn't as completely dense as Seiji had thought. The brunette backtracked until he felt the wall against his back, and relaxed against it, playing it cool. "So what, you thought I was being weird and asked Rosé about it? She hadn't even met me until now."

"She noticed something was off, asked me about it." Had Akira been that obvious about it? Seiji might not have noticed, thanks to being the cause, but no-one else could read Akira as well as he did, barring the other Kijimas. Was Rosé just that good? Or...

"And what's your grand deduction?" Seiji didn't know why he felt so prickly. He'd been caught out, but it wasn't that big of a deal, right? He'd just been annoying Akira for shits and giggles. That was all it was, and that's all he had to say. Akira would be pissed, sure, but it wasn't anything disastrous-

"...pigtails."

Seiji blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Rosé thinks you're..." Akira hesitated, his hand coming up to tease a lock of his hair- the same one Rosé had pulled earlier. "Like in elementary, when boys yank at girls hair cause..."

Seiji could feel his heart beating against his chest. The pieces were all laid out for him to put together, but he couldn't. If he'd been that aware of himself, then he wouldn't have started this mess in the first place. No, he couldn't read himself as well as he read others, and right now that was stopping him from realising something so obvious that a complete stranger had caught on to his intent. Why had he been so desperate to annoy Akira? Why had he so badly wanted an Akira that was privy to him, and him only?

Why was Akira approaching him now?

Why didn't he do anything as Akira pressed him against the wall and mashed their lips together?

There really wasn't another word to describe it- Akira had clearly never kissed someone before ( _hopefully_ he hadn't), because the thing he was doing now was not a kiss. He was pressed against Seiji with enough force to bruise, lips unmoving, head not positioned quite right so their noses bumped together. Seiji would've laughed at his ineptitude, if he wasn't already afflicted with a million other different emotions.

An eternity in the facade of a second passed before Akira abruptly pulled away, backing a few inches from Seiji and then just... standing there, as awkwardly as before. Awaiting a response, probably. Seiji had to relearn how to breathe before he could provide one.

The apartment around them was deafening. Water gurgled in the pipes, a television played next door, footsteps echoed down the street outside, cars passed, a dog barked... every minute sound was crystal clear, and Seiji couldn't find his voice amongst them.

Akira had the patience to wait, and wait, and wait. Finally, finally, words slipped out of Seiji's mouth, quiet and absent. "You've never kissed someone before, have you?"

Ah, there was that patented Akira glare he was so familiar with. "Really, that's all you've gotta say?" Seiji would've said that Akira sounded hurt, but that was too delicate a word for him. Offended, maybe. "Fuck, just... fine, forget I..."

Akira tried to back away further. Like a viper, Seiji snatched onto his hips and yanked him back, his body hot and growing hotter at the surprise in Akira's deep, dark eyes.

"I didn't say you could _leave_."

There was nearly half a head of height between them, so one of Seiji's hands had to snake up into Akira's hair in order to yank him down to level. He didn't pretend to be gentle, his grip like a vice in Akira's locks as he forced their lips together once more, taking advantage of Akira's shock to slip his tongue into Akira's mouth and ravage the warmth that awaited him. The muted gasps that were swallowed in their kiss, the sounds to be heard by Seiji and Seiji alone, sent shivers down his spine, his other hand sneaking around Akira's waist and pulling him, his heat, as close as possible.

Akira's hands had instinctively grabbed onto Seiji's arms, to yank him back if need be, but such a need proved to be unnecessary, and so the leathery grip on his skin slackened into something comfortable. His tongue tentatively followed Seiji's movements, awkward and clumsy but sending sparks of pleasure through Seiji's body each time it danced across Seiji's own tongue. And fuck, his _eyes_ , misted over with lust but still unfathomably dark and fierce, almost carnal, and Seiji could feel his gaze in every inch of his body.

He could've stayed like that for a long time, indulging in what was finally his, but the need for air was pressing and so Seiji reluctantly pulled away, a string of saliva falling down Akira's chin that damn near made Seiji yank him back in. He'd heard his fair amount of Akira panting over the past few weeks, but this time it wasn't out of exhaustion, it was for _him_ , the thought making him outright giddy.

"That's... how you do it." He panted, both his hands now coming up into Akira's hair and guiding their eyes to meet. Akira's gaze could never quite lose its sharpness, but it was certainly less piercing now. But Seiji could see the desire in them, the want, and it made his body stir in ways that were a little too early to deal with just yet.

"Fuck..." Akira gasped back, which was about as eloquent as Seiji could really expect. He brought their foreheads together, keeping his lips tantalisingly close to Akira's as they curled into a smirk.

"You better learn quick... Rosé's made her own offer."

Akira's brows drew together, and the grip on Seiji's arms suddenly tightened as Akira pressed him against the wall once more. He drew to his full height, his lips unmoving but his eyes saying it all. Seiji's feelings for Akira, twisted and complicated as they may be, were not a one-way street.

The revelation made Seiji's smirk grow all the more, wicked and feral as they both were. "Glad we're on the same page, partner."

**Author's Note:**

> Last time I wrote proper fanfic was circa 2012 for Tumblr. I have been writing for other stuff since then, so hopefully I'm not too bent out of shape.
> 
> About halfway through writing this I saw Seiji's Normal End (praise be to manlybadasshero) which... sure does add a layer to his relationship with Akira that I didn't really get to incorporate here, hardy har. Maybe next time.


End file.
